


breaking the rules

by nattura



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Butt Plugs, Explicit Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Mark Has A Great Body, Meet-Cute, Minor Character Death, No Plot/Plotless, Pizza Delivery Boy Jungwoo, Riding, Sugar Baby Mark, just...sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 21:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18978580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nattura/pseuds/nattura
Summary: “I’m sorry for your loss,” Jungwoo laments, shifting the pizza from one hand to the other because it’s burning painfully, “but you can pay in other ways. Like with ca—”“Sex?” Mark inquires, leaning against the doorframe.





	breaking the rules

**Author's Note:**

> bc of the format of this fic I was unable to include it but they do use lube and a condom pls dont bareback with strangers

“I have to be honest,” Mark interrupts their kiss to say, “I was kind of fucking myself before you got here.”

Jungwoo’s breath catches as Mark pushes his shorts down his legs and reaches behind him. With very little effort, he brandishes a pink glass butt plug and holds it in front of Jungwoo’s face.

Jungwoo stares at it. “Do you want me to suck on it or something?”

“What? God, no, just,” Mark exhales, putting the plug down on the coffee table and threading his fingers through the dark hairs at Jungwoo’s nape, “kiss me again? Please?”

The informal way Mark addresses him should be abnormal considering they just met a couple of hours prior, but it feels comfortable after the night they’ve had.

It starts like this: Jungwoo pulling up to the biggest estate he’s ever seen and briefly checking to see if he’s got the right address.

It’s the kind of home that has personal chefs serving five course meals three times a day, not somewhere that orders a stupid sweet potato pizza at near midnight. 

It’s at least four stories high with several balconies in front of stained glass windows. The long pathway Jungwoo has to walk down to get to the door is surrounded by lush grass on both sides and shadowed by a canopy of roses. He feels dirty in comparison.

Once he gets down the path and up the stairs to the porch, he rings the very prominent looking doorbell and is unsurprised when the jingle is a rendition of Beethoven’s 5th.

Jungwoo hears clumsy footsteps ambling down the stairs before the door swings open, and his heart kind of stops.

The person who opens the door is cute, that much is clear.  He has that big eye and high cheekbone combination that Jungwoo usually goes for, and a shock of light brown hair that makes him look distinctly boyish. 

What’s  _ not _ boyish is everything from the neck down. The man has come to the door shirtless and in tiny shorts and seems to be completely shameless about it. He is wearing a red silk robe, but it’s untied and hanging around his shoulders loosely, leaving his lean torso and long, muscular legs on display. As Jungwoo checks him out, he finds that the man has also donned expensive looking fuzzy slippers as well, and he looks so spoiled that Jungwoo has a hard time not laughing.

“Are you...Mark Lee?” Jungwoo squints at the name printed on the box’s sticker label. When the man nods, Jungwoo pulls the box from the insulator, holding it in his bare hand as he waits for Mark to swipe his card in the reader.

He makes no move to, and Jungwoo raises an eyebrow at him. “Sir?”

“Um,” Mark says, looking around into his house.

The heat from the box is starting to make Jungwoo’s palm sweat. “Hello? Is there a problem?”

Mark bites his bottom lip before leaning close like he’s going to tell Jungwoo a secret, “Somebody close to me just died and I have been so busy planning the funeral that I haven’t been able to deposit anything. I can’t pay with card,” Mark explains. 

Jungwoo is briefly annoyed by this person who ordered a pizza without the funds to pay for it. It takes maximum effort not to roll his eyes at the customer.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jungwoo laments, shifting the pizza from one hand to the other because it’s burning painfully, “but you can pay in other ways. Like with ca—”

“Sex?” Mark inquires, leaning against the doorframe.

Jungwoo splutters. “I was going to say with cash. Or we could just put a hold on your account so you can’t order again until you pay. But sex is….”

Mark suddenly looks embarrassed, sliding his robe back up onto his shoulders conservatively. “Is what?”

“Interesting,” Jungwoo says, but decides that it’s not the best choice of words when Mark’s eyebrows furrow. He tries a different tactic, “Can I come in?”

Mark immediately looks alarmed. “What?”

“You want sex right?” Jungwoo asks for confirmation. He doesn’t usually fuck customers, nor is it something he came here to do, but if an attractive guy wearing next to nothing wants to have sex, then who is Jungwoo to say no? No use in pretending that he wouldn't enjoy it.

“...Yes,” is Mark’s reply, albeit a little shameful, but he says it with a nod to reaffirm his stance. He steps aside, letting Jungwoo into his beautiful house.

“Let’s eat first,” Mark advises, shutting the door behind him, “Sex on an empty stomach is bad.”

Jungwoo leaves his shoes by the door and gets a good look at the extensive, expensive art collection as Mark takes him down the hallway, past the living room, and into the dining room.  They sit across from each other at the absurdly large dining room table, and this is where Jungwoo learns a lot about Mark.

He learns that Mark is a year younger than him and goes to university nearby, he likes calculus and hates politics, that he’s a sugar baby and the recently deceased person he previously mentioned was his sugar daddy, a phrase that makes Jungwoo cringe so hard that his shoulders touch his ears. According to Mark, he passed right before allowance day, which is why Mark couldn’t pay with his card.

In turn, Jungwoo tells Mark that he goes to a different university, collects seashells and believes in extraterrestrial beings. They spend forty five minutes talking about that last topic alone, extending way beyond the time it took to eat their food.

“You’re so intelligent,” Mark sighs dreamily as he goes to put his glass in the kitchen, “I cannot wait for you to fuck me.”

The wording sets off alarm bells in Jungwoo’s head. Jungwoo hadn’t been sure what he was agreeing to when he invited himself in for sex, but he just assumed it would be the usual. Jungwoo hasn’t been with a person who didn’t want to fuck him senseless, so hearing something other than that implied feels...odd.

“Wait,” Jungwoo stops him, cheeks coloring, “Mark.”

Mark turns only his head around to look at him. “What is it?”

“I’ve never, um, topped before. I don’t know how,” Jungwoo admits.

“Oh,” Mark says, looking entirely confounded by the information, “it’s not that big a deal. I can fuck you if you want.”

Jungwoo takes a long moment to look Mark up and down, taking in his thick thighs and cute ass and expectant gaze. He swallows roughly.

“I think I want to try,” he croaks out. 

Mark smiles at him, coming into the dining room and reaching across the table to grab Jungwoo’s hand and lead him over to the couch. “That’s okay,” he says, turning around to make eye contact, “I’ll do all the work.”

Which leads to where they are now: after a brief argument over whether Jungwoo keeps his shirt on or not (“I don’t care about your chest, I just want you inside me!” vs “What if you come all over one of my work shirts?”), Jungwoo giving Mark a nod of consent before he slides all the way down Jungwoo’s cock, sighing as he finally takes Jungwoo inside of him. Jungwoo can’t decide which is more attractive; the way his hard length slips inside with ease or the way Mark’s throws his head back in a broken moan.

Mark, impatient, drags his hands down Jungwoo’s chest and pulls himself up before dropping down again with a smack. Jungwoo arches like he's had the breath knocked out of him, but Mark's too focused to stop himself from rising up and grinding down again. 

Mark grips Jungwoo’s shoulders and starts to work himself back and forth against him. Jungwoo winces at how hard Mark is digging into the flesh, nails and fingertips pressing in painfully. Mark seems to notice, bracing himself on Jungwoo’s knees instead. He eases himself back into the movement, rocking his hips with it as the pace slowly grows faster. Jungwoo curses under his breath, but Mark has none of the same reservations, moaning out swear words into the open air.

Jungwoo grunts and leans up to bury his face into Mark’s neck, sucking on it harshly. Eventually, he draws back because he would be a fool to not look at the view he has. Mark is pumping his hips fast and hard, without rest, and Jungwoo makes the executive decision to push Mark’s robe down his shoulders and all the way off. It had been bunched up before, but now Jungwoo can watch, unobscured, as Mark’s hole swallows him up. 

Every time Mark lifts himself, Jungwoo can feel the slickness of sweat that pools in the cradle of his own pelvis. He shudders as the liquid cools and heats quickly, between each drop of Mark’s hips. He’s started clenching tight around Jungwoo as he rides him, causing him to hiss through his teeth and grip onto Mark’s thighs for mercy.

"Fuck, Mark, wait. Stop, please. God." 

Mark does as asked but clenches around his cock again, letting out a low moan at his own actions. Jungwoo watches him carefully and gets obnoxiously horny all over again — not that he ever stopped — because Mark is annoyingly handsome.

The other seems to sense this when Jungwoo momentarily closes his eyes and swears without him doing anything. Mark grins, only looking a little bashful when he runs the pad of his index finger down Jungwoo’s chest, “How are you doing, big guy? All good?”

"Fuck," Jungwoo breathes, chest heaving, "Okay, I think I'm okay. You're just already so tight and when you start clenching like that, it feels like a fucking black hole sucking me in and it's very—”

Mark crashes his lips against Jungwoo’s, effectively cutting him off. He willingly reciprocates and the younger cannot help but smile into Jungwoo’s mouth, guiding Jungwoo’s hands so they rest on his ass. 

Jungwoo, ever perceptive, takes the hint, helping lift Mark up and pull him down. His hands squeeze Mark’s ass and pull him into a grind, making the younger whimper in the back of his throat. 

It gets rougher once they get more comfortable together, Jungwoo holding Mark’s ass in an iron grip and slamming him down onto Jungwoo’s lap. Mark grows more and more desperate with each gesture, hips bucking against Jungwoo, who starts feeling lightheaded at the actions. 

Jungwoo manages to maintain his focus, but Mark can barely keep his eyes open. Jungwoo can feel the other’s body trembling as he locks his elbows around Jungwoo’s neck and clutches onto him for dear life. Mark’s head hangs forward and he pants against Jungwoo’s temple as sweat beads over their skin. His lips and chin are brushed with remnants of saliva from them both, eyes watering from the harsh fucking he is on the receiving end of. Overwhelmed, Mark kind of falls apart and becomes lazy, hips gradually slowing down.

Unwilling to let that deter him, Jungwoo grips onto Mark’s backside again, nails clawing into it as he stretches Mark out even further. He raises himself up on his heels and starts to rock his own hips, moving his cock into Mark and starting them up again.

Mark collapses entirely at that, going back on his promise of doing all of the work, but Jungwoo doesn’t care when Mark is letting Jungwoo use him like this. Mark, who had been so loud before, whimpers quietly in pleasure, laying his cheek on the top of Jungwoo’s head while digging his knuckles into the first knob of Jungwoo’s spine.

“Come on. Don’t hold back on me now,” Jungwoo murmurs into Mark’s chest, lips kissing along his sternum. 

Mark pants in response, unable to get words to form. His body is wound so tight that he’s started vibrating in Jungwoo’s lap, and although he’s trying his damndest to get a grip on himself, it’s virtually useless. With Jungwoo’s final thrusts felt deep inside of him, Mark can’t hold out any longer and curls his hand around his dick to jack himself off.

He throws his head back, a choked breath struggling to escape him as his eyes clench shut. Mark starts rolling his hips once again, albeit feebly, but that in conjunction with his hand and Jungwoo pounding into him sends an orgasm rippling through him. Mark’s loud cry echoes through the sparsely furnished living room as he comes onto Jungwoo’s stomach, making a huge mess.

Jungwoo moans as Mark’s tightness becomes constricting and quickly takes back over, pistoning his hips up into him and jolting his undoubtedly oversensitive and exhausted body. The tight grip on his ass is the only thing that kept him from bobbling right off of Jungwoo’s lap as he comes.

It doesn’t take long for Jungwoo to follow after, pulling Mark down so his ass meets Jungwoo’s hip bones. Moans and gasps subside into heavy panting and shaken breaths as Mark slumps forward against Jungwoo, sending him sprawling out on the sectional.

“Look how much you came,” Jungwoo teases, gently separating himself from Mark so he can see just how much he spilled, “Aren’t you glad I took my shirt off now?”

Mark stares at him from where he’s rolled over on the couch. “You’re going back to work?”

“A man has to get paid,” Jungwoo shrugs, reaching for the box of Kleenex on the coffee table, “we can’t all be newly widowed sugar babies.”

There’s a heavy silence has Jungwoo stands and puts his underwear and pants back on. When he reaches for his shirt, Mark chimes up again, “You could be.”

“What?”

“Xiumin didn’t have any family. It’s why he sought me out,” Mark explains, but Jungwoo just looks even more confused. Mark blinks at him, “I get everything he owns. I could give you some. I know I’ll have more money than I would know what to do with.”

Jungwoo chuckles as he puts his belt on. “That’s very sweet of you, Mark, but I think you’re orgasm drunk right now.”

There’s a short pause. “Maybe.”

Jungwoo fastens his cap over his head and sighs. He looks around the room until he lays his eyes on a pen on the kitchen table. He hastily scribbles his name and phone number on Mark’s hand, who looks at it with muted intrigue.

“Just in case you actually want to see me afterward,” Jungwoo reasons, putting a pen back on the table. He looks at Mark, who has barely moved from his spot on the couch, “Do you need help getting to bed or…?”

Mark smiles at him. “No, I’m good. Go back to work, Jungwoo. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Mark, butt ass naked, walks Jungwoo over to the door before sending him off back to his car.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> mark actually poisoned his sugar daddy but nobody has to know that
> 
> my friends and I were talking about this at the end of march and I just recently found the screenshots and decided to write it lmao
> 
> this is a departure from my usual serious (?) kind of smut but if u don't like it then feel free to exit the page quietly
> 
> thank you for reading!!
> 
> 190526  
> -M


End file.
